The Curse of Cute Puppies
by Sherlocked95
Summary: Written as a gift for tazilp's birthday. Merthur oneshot; involves cute puppies, birthdays and fluff. Arthur has no idea what to get Merlin for his birthday, but a few not so subtle hints give him the perfect idea. (Slash)


Arthur wasn't fond of pets.

He understood why people liked them and it wasn't like he didn't appreciate _animals_, he just didn't like pets. He'd enjoyed his trip to the zoo when he was a kid (Zeke, their childhood cook, had taken him, Morgana and Leon to the London zoo as a birthday treat when he was nine) and he'd been fascinated by the lions, giraffes and monkeys. His favourite exhibit had been the tigers. He liked nature, too, and wild animals; wolves, owls, deer.

But _pets_...pets were an entirely different thing. They weren't just to observe and wonder at. You have to actually take _care _of them. Arthur simply didn't have the time or the patience for that. He imagined kids in his future and that was different, but spending his time looking after an _animal_? Some small, furry, dull little thing? It just didn't appeal to him one little bit.

Cats...cats were awful. Their owners have to feed them and clean out their litter tray and provide toys, and for what? Cats weren't affectionate, not really. The owner gains nothing out of it. Birds were a definite _no_; again, you feed them, provide toys and such, and get nothing out of it. Except loud, irritating noise. Things like rabbits, hamsters, guinea pigs – _ugh_, domestic rats – were also unappealing. Having to clean out cages and stuff and the only thing they provide in return is cuddles and Arthur...he wasn't a big on cuddles, especially ones that involved smelly animals and fur sticking to his clothes.

Dogs, dogs he could understand, somewhat. Sure, you have to feed them and clean up after them, but they give a lot in return; attention, affection, loyalty, you can take them for walks and play with them and have fun. He liked dogs. He often petted Elyan's border collie when he visited. But the idea of having one was repellent. He didn't have the time. Or the patience. And dog hair all over the place..._ugh_.

He knew that, when it came to the subject of pets, he could be really grumpy. But he just _didn't like pets_.

So when there was a knock on the door one morning (and he grumbled his whole way to the door, since it was his first full day off work in a long while and he'd hoped for a lie in) and he opened it to reveal Morgana with a German Shepherd puppy bouncing around her ankles, he could do nothing but stare at it for a few puzzled minutes before speaking.

"What the _hell_ is that?"

Morgana rolled her eyes. "It's a dog, Arthur. Surely you know what a dog is? They have four legs, a tail, like to bark and play fetch..."

"I know it's a _dog_," he interrupted slowly. "But why have you got a dog and why is it at my apartment at," he glanced at his watch, "almost eight o'clock in the morning?"

She waved her hand dismissively rather than answering his question and took a step forward to enter the apartment. Arthur was struck by the thought of the dog running around the place, getting dog hair on the carpet and sofa, and, panicked, quickly blocked her way.

"Oh for goodness sake, Arthur, it's a dog, not the plague," Morgana snapped. "It won't hurt you. It doesn't even bite. It's one of the sweetest little things I've ever come across." Her voice suddenly changed as she cooed in a baby voice at the..._thing_, "Aren't you, Watson? Yes you are, _yes you are_!"

She suddenly dropped into a crouch and rubbed the dog's ears, petting it happily as it jumped around in excitement at being paid attention, tongue lolling out of its mouth as it panted and wagged its tail. Morgana proceeded to – _oh Jesus Christ_ – actually _baby talk _the damn thing, grinning as the puppy stumbled over its own legs in its eagerness for affection.

Arthur stared at the mutant that had quite clearly replaced his sister. Because if there was one thing in life he'd never expected to see, it was Morgana – elegant, cool, fashion-centric _Morgana_ – daring to crouch in her expensive heels and get dog fur all over her green silk blouse and grey high waisted slacks, the ice around her heart melting because of a bloody _dog_.

Arthur moved to close the door and return to bed but Morgana's hand shot out without her even looking up from the puppy, her hand closing around the edge of the door to stop it. For such a dainty woman, her grip was surprisingly strong.

"Close that door," she warned, quiet and sinister. "And I'll train this puppy to piss all over your nice new carpet."

Ah, _there_ was the Morgana he knew and loved.

He released the door and let her nudge it open as she straightened, brushing dog hair off her slacks. She entered the flat, the dog following her quickly, all excitement and bouncy energy, and Arthur glared at it, closing the door behind them. How could any creature – human or canine – be so alert and happy at such a godforsaken time of the morning? It was unnatural.

Maybe the dog was possessed by a demon. That would definitely make sense. It did have a kind of evil look in its eyes. It also explained Morgana's obvious adoration of the damn thing; evil attracts evil.

"You're thinking mean thoughts."

Arthur blinked, breaking his staring contest with the dog, and looked at Morgana. "I am not."

She pointed a red lacquered nail at him, green eyes narrowing. "I always know when you're thinking mean thoughts about me. You get that look on your face like you're constipated."

He fixed a repentant look on his face. "Sorry, Morgan. It's eight o'clock and I'm really tired. Merlin..."

"If the rest of that sentence is anything like 'Merlin kept me up late last night shagging', then shut up right now. There are some things a sister doesn't need to know. It was bad enough walking in on it." Her face twisted with disgust at the memory.

He grinned. "Sorry."

She rummaged around in her bag for her phone and glanced at it, sighing. "I'd make you a cup of coffee, but I really must go."

He narrowed his eyes, suspicious. "Why would you make me coffee?"

"Because," her smile turned sweet and hopeful. "Since it _is _your day off and you're a lovely, generous brother, I thought you'd do me a favour."

He felt a sinking feeling in his chest as he glanced at the puppy – now sat on the floor, watching them, tongue hanging out as its tail thumped rhythmically on the carpet – already sure he knew what the favour was.

"Watson belongs to Mordred. He's gone for a long weekend away with some friends and I said I'd dogsit for him since I'm working at home until Tuesday. But Mordred's stand in has had some sort of cock up and I need to go in and sort it out, so..." She gave him a wide eyed, hopeful look. "It'd only be for a couple of hours, tops."

"No way."

"Oh come _on_," she wheedled. "He's an adorable little thing and really well behaved. He won't make a peep."

"Morgan..."

"_Please_? I really need this favour, Arthur. No one else can take him. I'll owe you big time."

He sighed, relenting. "Fine. But only for a couple of hours."

"Thank you!" she leaned up, pecking him on the cheek, before dropping a lead and collar and a tennis ball onto the coffee table. "Right, I'll see you two later. Have fun!"

She swept out of the flat, closing the door behind her. Arthur sighed, glancing down at the puppy. It gazed back happily, tail swishing on the carpet, clearly waiting for him to do something.

"How do you entertain a dog?" Arthur wondered aloud. He glanced at the TV remote. _Nah, probably wouldn't work_.

The puppy yapped and Arthur winced, reaching out a hand to gesture for it to be quiet. It immediately shifted into a playful crouch.

A sudden realisation struck him.

"Hold on, Mordred named you _Watson_? _**Watson**_, from Sherlock Holmes?" Arthur shook his head incredulously. "Ugh, he's such a fanboy."

Watson gave another playful yip, almost drowning out the sound of Arthur's phone chiming. He picked it up, opening the new text message from Morgana.

_**Mordred said Watson likes to eat Wagg dog tins. Beef flavoured in jelly. And Wagg biscuits. You can get them in pretty much any supermarket.  
- Morgana xx**_

Arthur glanced up at the puppy. Well, at least Mordred wasn't feeding it gourmet steaks or anything. _Wagg _dog tins and biscuits he could definitely do.

_**Can I leave him alone?  
- Arthur**_

He'd heard something about not leaving new pets – especially dogs – alone for a long period of time.

_**Take him with you. He needs to be taken for a walk too, so you can get the dog food on the way back.  
- Morgana xx**_

He grimaced. He had no experience with walking dogs and it wasn't something he was eager to do. For a small puppy, Watson was probably strong and would pull on the lead and demand to play fetch. He wasn't used to taking care of an animal.

Then he frowned in realisation, quickly thumbing a text to Morgana.

_**Wait, why do I need to feed and walk him? You said I only need to watch him for a couple of hours, tops.  
- Arthur**_

He waited, but there was no response. _Damn Morgana_. He sighed, pocketing his phone and looking down at the puppy. After a moment, he reached out to pet it, rubbing its ears. Its fur was surprisingly soft, almost velvety, and it arched into his touch happily, tail wagging furiously.

He smiled.

The dog suddenly twisted its head and licked his hand.

Arthur snatched his hand back in disgust and looked at the string of dog saliva on his hand. "_Ugh_."

**0**

Three hours later, Arthur was about ready to donate Watson to an animal shelter, Mordred be damned.

It had spent an hour running around the coffee table out of excitement, which was annoying and distracting, but at least it ended up wearing itself out and it napped in the doorway to the kitchen – right in the way, so he kept tripping whenever he wanted to get a cup of coffee.

It had woken up filled with fresh energy and had proceeded to tear around the living room, tail wagging at ninety miles an hour, and when Arthur had failed to pay attention to it, started scratching and biting at the leg of the mahogany coffee table. It was at that point he'd banished it to the kitchen.

Where it peed all over the floor (thankfully tile, not carpet, so there was no stain), as he discovered when he went in to get a snack. It took him half an hour to get rid of the stink of dog piss.

It had napped again briefly before pawing at his ankles, trying to get his attention. After a few minutes of trying and failing to ignore the distraction, Arthur reached out a hand to rub its ears.

Instead of accepting the affection, Watson latched onto his sleeve, growling playfully, muzzle pulled back. Arthur cursed and shook his arm, but Watson, though he wasn't sinking his teeth into flesh, kept a hold tight on the fabric of his shirt. He tugged again and Watson yanked back – and the fabric ripped, opening a tear up to his elbow.

Arthur stared at the sleeve of his now ruined favourite shirt and closed his eyes, counting to ten. He was going to kill Morgana for this, he really was.

A low gurgling sound snapped him out of his annoyed thoughts and he looked down at the now repentant puppy in realisation. _Oh_, it was hungry.

"Sorry," he muttered, which was stupid because it was a dog. It wasn't like it could understand what he was saying.

He changed shirts and pulled on his shoes and coat, grabbing his umbrella from one of the hooks by the front door. It was torrential rain outside – yet another wonderful day of weather in London – and he grimaced at the thought of going for a walk in it. He put Watson's collar on, attached the lead, pocketing a roll of bags to clean up any mess and the tennis ball, and left.

He'd been correct; Watson was energetic and excited, yanking hard on the lead in an effort to run ahead. It snuffled at the pavement, approaching every single interesting scent, and occasionally dropped behind suddenly to try and eat a rotten carcass or litter strewn on the street, forcing Arthur to a hard stop. His arm ached after the third time this happened and he had to drag Watson away from the distraction. Watson evidently wasn't used to being around other dogs, either; when they passed two larger ones, he cowered and ended up almost tripping Arthur over. It took him five minutes to detangle Watson's legs from the lead. When they passed smaller dogs, he yapped at them and tried to play.

But it wasn't too bad. Arthur could handle Watson's strength and he learned that if he gave a gentle tug on the lead, Watson obediently dropped back to walk at his side. He started adding a stern "heel" to the movement and by the time they reached the park, he could say it without needing to tug on the lead and Watson still fell back into step by his side. He tried to smother his pride at teaching the puppy a trick.

Once in the park, he let Watson off the lead, a little worried that he'd run off and cause chaos. But he simply ran around Arthur in circles, snuffling at the ground. Arthur retrieved the tennis ball from his pocket and held it up. Watson's ears perked up and he crouched, tail wagging furiously as he waited for Arthur to throw the ball.

He played fetch until his arm ached and Watson was completely worn out. He let the dog keep the tennis ball in its mouth as they left the park, Watson back on his lead. He stopped off at the supermarket on the way back – Arthur leaving Watson tied securely to a pole – and he bought the food Morgana had recommended.

Back in the flat, he fed Watson and, after eating, he settled down for a nap, little belly swollen from eating. Arthur smiled and sat cross legged on the sofa with his laptop, glad he could finally get some work done without being interrupted by the fiend fast asleep on his carpet.

An hour later, he decided he needed coffee. He stretched, closed the laptop and put it aside, and got to his feet. Watson immediately jumped up, once again full of energy – "_how_?" Arthur muttered – and almost tripped him over.

"Stay," he said sternly, pointing at the dog. "Stay here until I get back. _Stay_."

Watson tilted his head, watching him. Arthur turned his back and headed towards the kitchen.

The dog followed him.

Sighing, he looked down at Watson and shook his head before deciding there was no point trying to get it do as it was told. It sat on his feet as he spooned coffee and sugar into a mug, but as soon as it heard the front door open, it was off, legs scrambling wildly to get purchase on the kitchen tiles as it shot towards the living room.

Arthur smiled, waiting to hear Merlin's reaction to their intruder.

"_Hello_," he could hear the grin in Merlin's voice. "Aren't you cute? Yes, hello, let me just get my coat off...no, you can't eat my shoelaces...come here then..."

Arthur shook his head as he got out a mug to make Merlin a cup of tea. Of _course _Merlin would be excited about the damn puppy. Of course he loved animals, especially of the cute, baby variety. He knew Merlin would be fussing Watson right now, not giving a shit about dog hair on his clothes or the smell or anything like that.

Shaking his head fondly, he finished making the drinks and headed into the living room.

Merlin was sat on the sofa, Watson in his lap, petting the animal thoroughly. In return, Watson wriggled excitedly, licking at his neck and face and Merlin tilted his mouth out of reach but he was laughing.

Arthur had to stop at the sight, struck by seeing his partner so _happy_. He'd always rolled his eyes at the expression "melted my heart", but that was what it felt like to watch Merlin so cheerful and excited...looking more like his age than he did most of the time.

"Who's a little cutie, then? You are, _yes_ you are! No, you can't lick my face..." Merlin spoke in the same high pitched, cooing voice Morgana had used earlier, baby talking Watson, and Arthur groaned.

"Not you as well."

It was like a pandemic; whenever they see a cute animal, they must turn into idiots and baby talk at it in silly voices.

Merlin looked up with a delighted grin on his face. "What can I say? It's the curse of all cute things. People can't help but babble at how cute they are." His smile turned wicked. "I bet you get it all the time."

"Did you just call me cute?" he narrowed his eyes as he placed Merlin's tea and his own coffee on the table.

"What would you prefer?"

"Handsome, sexy, sex god..."

"Ssh!" Merlin's eyes widened as he placed his hands over Watson's ears. "There are young ears in the room, Arthur."

"It's a _dog_."

"It's an adorable little puppy dog," Merlin beamed down at the wriggling thing in his lap, stroking its fur soothingly. "What's his name?"

"Watson."

"Watson?" Merlin's eyes lit up. "Like from Sherlock Holmes? That's so sweet!"

Arthur groaned. "I'm going to go bang my head against a wall."

"Aw, stop being grumpy," Merlin smiled.

"He belongs to Mordred. Morgana's dogsitting for him but was called into work...so she dumped him on me. You don't mind, do you?"

"_Mind_?" Merlin snorted. "Of course I don't mind. I love dogs."

Arthur looked at the animal, wrinkling his nose. "_Why_?"

"Because I'm not a cold hearted, grumpy git like you?" Merlin teased. "Honestly, I'm beginning to wonder if you're not a long lost relation of Cruella De Ville."

"I'd never have bad enough taste to wear a coat made of dog fur."

Merlin rubbed Watson's ears, a fond smile on his face. "I used to have a dog, when I was younger. She was an Irish terrier named Ginger. She was a sweet, affectionate thing...absolutely adored me, which annoyed Will no end since she never cuddled him like she did me when he came round. She was always there when I got home from school to greet me. I know it sounds cliché, but...she really was my best friend."

Arthur smiled at the happy, fond look on Merlin's face. "What happened?" He didn't remember seeing a dog the few times they'd visited Merlin's family.

"She died when I was twelve," Merlin murmured. "It was old age and we knew it was coming...it still hurt like hell, though."

"I'm sorry."

Merlin shrugged, smiling. "At least she didn't suffer. Can I take Watson for a walk?"

"I took him on one earlier."

"Damn," Merlin sighed.

"But I suppose another wouldn't hurt."

Merlin grinned and gave Watson another fussing before nudging him of his lap and getting to his feet.

They ended up at the park again and Merlin threw the ball this time, grinning as Watson did a proud lap around a tree with the ball in his mouth before trotting back to drop it at Merlin's feet expectantly. He threw it again, this time further, and they watched Watson run off, stubby legs all over the place as he bounded blindly across the park to get the ball.

"Come on, Arthur," Merlin nudged him. "You have to admit, he's sweet."

"Yeah, he is."

Merlin grinned victoriously.

Morgana arrived in the evening to pick Watson up, thanking them both profusely and she didn't stay. Merlin snuggled on the sofa with him for an hour or so before dragging him off to bed, kissing him thoroughly before falling him asleep curled up against him, as he normally did.

**0**

A week later, he woke to find Merlin watching TV. This wasn't unusual. What _was _unusual was the fact that Merlin wasn't watching the morning news for once. Instead, he was watching Crufts, eyes glued to the screen as he watched the judges examine the specimens lined up with their proud owners beside them.

"Crufts?" Arthur asked in surprise, joining his partner on the sofa.

Merlin shrugged. "Wasn't in the mood for the news and this was the only other thing on. Isn't that one cute?" he pointed to the screen as it zoomed in on an English Springer Spaniel.

Arthur nodded. "Sure."

Merlin looked at him then, raising an eyebrow. "So, I don't have to work until this afternoon..." he placed his hand on Arthur's thigh, making his intention clear.

Arthur grinned and placed Merlin's mug aside before leaning in, capturing him in a kiss.

**0**

"I've volunteered at the dog shelter."

Arthur looked at Merlin in surprise. "What?"

He shrugged, taking sip of tea. "Now I'm not working as much, I've got a lot of free time on my hands, especially on weekends. So I figured I'd volunteer to help out at the dog shelter on weekends. You know, to help walk the dogs, play with them, that sort of stuff."

"Oh," Arthur raised his eyebrows. "That's...unexpected."

"Well, I love dogs and this means I won't get bored now I have a lot of free time," Merlin smiled, leaning in to kiss him. "Speaking of, I'm meeting with Gwaine for a few drinks. Want to join us?"

"Sure," Arthur nodded, still a little off guard. "I'll just get my coat."

**0**

Arthur gazed at the dark haired, sleeping man curled up against him, head resting on his ribs and one arm thrown over his waist. He snored softly in his sleep and Arthur smiled, carding his fingers soothingly through Merlin's hair. He always fell fast asleep again after morning sex, too worn out to actually get up, but Arthur – though equally exhausted – was wide awake now.

It was Merlin's birthday in three days and he still hadn't purchased a birthday present. He'd started a list of ideas a couple of weeks ago, some of them his own, some suggested by Hunith, Will and Gwaine. He knew Hunith was knitting him a jumper (and he'd smiled at the sheer _mum_ gesture of that) and Will and Gwaine were pitching together to get Merlin an expensive set of art utensils. But thinking about the list now, they all seemed rubbish. They just weren't..._meaningful _enough. He wanted Merlin to know just how much he cherished him, how happy he was that he had him in his life. An engraved mobile phone or a set of _Doctor Who_ DVD's just weren't significant enough.

He _knew _Merlin. He knew him better than anyone else...hell, sometimes, he thought he knew Merlin better than he knew himself. But he simply did not know what to get him for his birthday. There was nothing Merlin _wanted_ and he was certain he'd assure Arthur that he already _had _everything he wanted. He was so difficult to buy things for.

And what did you get for someone like Merlin anyway? Nothing seemed good enough for him. Nothing shone as brilliantly as Merlin. Nothing signified just how beautiful he was, inside and out. Nothing expressed just how much Arthur loved him, completely and unwaveringly.

He sighed, dropping his hand to stroke his thumb over Merlin's lower lip, and the other man stirred, moaning slightly at having his sleep disturbed. Arthur smiled, tracing Merlin's cheekbone before releasing him completely to pillow his head on his arms. Merlin went back to snoring softly.

For their anniversary, Arthur had organised a trip on the London Eye with champagne, followed by dinner at the restaurant they'd gone to for their very first date, which, okay, was a bit much considering it was only their one year anniversary, but he'd panicked. This was his first serious relationship and he had no idea what to do when it came to anniversaries, and Morgana had refused to help, saying this was something he had to do himself. So he'd panicked and decided _too much_ was definitely better than _not enough_. Merlin had laughed, called him a 'bloody rich idiot' and kissed him soundly. The photo of them Merlin had taken and secured in a special anniversary-themed frame stood proudly in the living room above the fireplace and the expensive red and gold cufflinks Merlin had given him at the restaurant were worn every single day to work.

Merlin had reassured him that he didn't care for making a big thing of anniversaries, that they needn't celebrate excessively until they'd been together for ten years. Which had been a relief, because the idea of trying to come up with ideas for what to do every single year had terrified Arthur a little bit.

So what did he do for Merlin's birthday? He'd immediately scrapped the idea of a surprise party. He knew Merlin would _hate _it. He intended to take Merlin out in the evening, maybe for dinner and a movie, and afterwards to the bar to hang out with their closest friends. He also intended to make sure that Merlin visited Hunith sometime soon. He knew without him nudging, Merlin would back out of visiting his mother, even to celebrate his birthday. He always dreaded visiting his hometown; too many bad memories.

But for the present? He was drawing a complete blank. And he knew better than to ask Morgana for help on this one. Coming up with the perfect present was something he had to do himself.

A warm, ticklish feeling pressed against the bottom of his ribs and he smiled, raising his head slightly to peer down at Merlin. He looked back with a sleepy smile, pressing another soft kiss to Arthur's stomach.

"Morning," he greeted with a yawn before grimacing. "Ugh, I feel sticky."

"We should shower," Arthur agreed, tracing Merlin's spine with his fingertips and smiling when his partner shivered pleasantly.

Neither of them moved.

"Later," Merlin finally decided, shuffling up on the bed so he sprawled across Arthur's chest, legs tangled, chin propped on Arthur's clavicle.

"Get off," he grumbled. "You're too bony."

Merlin merely smiled, folding his hands under his chin so it didn't dig in too much, and gazed at him.

"What?"

"I love you."

Arthur smiled. "Good. So you should."

"Hmph."

"Merlin?"

"Hmm?"

"What do you want for your birthday?"

"Hmm," Merlin peered at the clock. "Do you know what day it is today? It's the day they reveal who'll be playing the next Doctor."

Arthur decided that was probably something _Doctor Who _related and ignored it, carding his fingers through Merlin's hair.

"I mean it," he pressed. "What would you like?"

"I don't know...socks or something."

"_Mer_lin."

Merlin shifted up until his forearms bracketed Arthur's head on the pillow and he was leaning over him, their faces close enough that he could feel Merlin's breath on his lips as they gazed at each other.

"Would you accuse me of being sickeningly cliché if I said I already have everything I want right here?" he asked softly.

"Definitely."

"Grumpy," Merlin accused playfully. "But I mean it."

"And I love you too, but I want to give you something _substantial_."

"Your love isn't substantial?" Merlin teased.

"_Mer_lin."

"Alright, alright," he chuckled. "Look, Arthur, I really don't want anything. If you're going to insist on getting me a present, then, trust me, just socks or chocolate or something is completely fine."

"Wouldn't you be annoyed if I refused to answer when you ask me what I want for my birthday?" Arthur asked.

"Don't be an idiot," Merlin snorted. "I already know exactly what I'm getting you."

"You do?"

"Yep," Merlin smiled. "Now stop talking."

He kissed Arthur soundly, making sure that he stopped talking. Arthur admitted defeat, kissing him back with lips, tongue and heat, closing his eyes. Unfortunately, Merlin pulled back too soon, pressing one last, firm kiss to his mouth before pushing himself up from the bed.

"Shower, tea, food, work," he murmured, stretching.

Arthur pillowed his head on his arms again and happily watched Merlin's naked arse as he disappeared into the bathroom. Once the door was shut, he dropped his head back and stared at the ceiling.

Socks or chocolate? It seemed like such a crap present to get for your partner. He sighed, groaning quietly as he listened to the sound of water running in the bathroom. Three days...he had three days to find the perfect present, because socks simply wasn't going to cut it.

And then, all at once, the idea struck him.

He grinned in excitement, sitting up in bed. He knew _exactly_ what to get Merlin for his birthday. And in order to get it, he would need to enlist the help of Morgana and Mordred. After all, dog shelters _really_ weren't the kind of place he liked to hang out.

**0**

"Morning, love."

Merlin cracked open one sleepy blue eye, peering at him from beneath a mound of duvet and pillows. On the rare occasions that Arthur got up first, Merlin always managed to turn the bed into his own fort in a matter of minutes, ensuring that there was no room for Arthur to get back _in_.

"Nope, it's still night," he replied, closing his eyes and wriggling back under his defence line of pillows.

"Merlin, that's sunlight coming through the window."

"You're hallucinating," came the muffled, adamant reply.

"It's almost eight o'clock in the morning and...happy birthday."

Merlin groaned. Arthur sighed, deciding it was time to resort to dirty tactics.

"Merlin, I'll plug the phone back in so your mother can ring through. She's probably already tried a few dozen times."

Merlin sat bolt upright, throwing back the duvet and causing a wave of cushions and pillows to go flying across the room. He glared at Arthur.

"You git," he grumbled. "Alright, I'm up. Why am I up?"

Arthur smiled, leaning in to kiss him. "Happy birthday, love," he murmured against his lips.

Merlin's grumpy expression melted into a small smile as he kissed him back. "Thank you."

Arthur handed him the cup of tea he'd made and Merlin immediately lit up, grasping the mug like a lifeline.

"Breakfast is in about twenty," Arthur told him. "I'm having it delivered."

"Ooh, fancy."

"It's doughnuts and croissants. I just couldn't be arsed to go all the way to the coffee shop to get them." He crouched and reached under the bed, retrieving the card and small package he'd stowed underneath it the night before. "Here, this is for you."

Merlin grinned and opened the card first, rolling his eyes at the (admittedly soppy) message before glancing at the present. He ripped it open, tearing the paper in the way that always made Arthur wince when people did that (he preferred to slide his thumbnail underneath the sellotape and unfold the present, thus preserving the wrapping paper) and held up the box of chocolates and pair of socks Arthur had gotten him.

"Thank you," he smiled, leaning up to kiss him.

"You're very welcome. Shower, relax...like I said, breakfast is in about twenty."

He left Merlin to it and headed into the living room to finish making his own cup of coffee. He cupped it in his palms, letting the aroma awaken him a bit – he'd gotten up at a ridiculous hour in order to sort the present out – and watched the news. He'd never watched it at all when he'd lived alone – he preferred to find out news via the internet – but he'd gotten into the habit since Merlin had moved in with him.

Merlin came out of the bedroom quarter of an hour later, dressed in only sweatpants slung low on his hips, his hair still damp from the shower. His thumbs were busy rapidly typing out a text to someone on his phone.

Arthur watched a bead of water trail down Merlin's chest to his happy trail before shifting to the other end of the sofa so his partner could sit down. Merlin's phone chimed as he settled into the seat and he glanced at it, grinning.

"Birthday messages?" Arthur asked, moving so he was curled against him.

Merlin nodded. "Lest."

"Lest?"

"Celeste," he clarified. "She's a girl in my art class. Very Canadian, very lovely, ridiculously good at art."

Arthur nodded, kissing his shoulder before asking, "So, did you like your present?"

Merlin paused, glancing at him. "Yes, I did. Thank you."

Arthur's own phone buzzed and he read the text message, grinning. "Well, breakfast's here. I'll go get it."

Merlin nodded, beaming up at him. Arthur left the apartment, taking the elevator down to the foyer of the apartment complex. He nodded to Shea, one of their neighbours, before heading out onto the pavement.

Morgana was waiting by her car, tightly holding the lead to an excitable lump of fur bouncing around her ankles. It noticed Arthur and clearly recognised him, as its tail started wagging enthusiastically and it strained against the lead to get to him.

Arthur had thought he'd need Morgana and Mordred's help to choose a puppy, but as it turned out, he found the perfect one in the first area the shelter's volunteer took them to. There was a litter of squirming English Springer Spaniel puppies and one of them had been shoved out by its brothers and sisters to sit alone. An underdog – pardon the pun – was perfect. Merlin was a soft heart for those in need. This puppy was perfect.

"Hey, boy," Arthur greeted, crouching to scratch the puppy behind its ears. It squirmed happily at the attention, trying to reach to lick his hand.

Arthur wasn't fond of pets. But he had to admit that this puppy in particular was sweet.

"Thanks for bringing him over," Arthur straightened to address Morgana. "I really appreciate it."

"Has he fallen for the shit present?" Morgana raised an eyebrow.

"I think so."

"Well, he's all yours," Morgana passed the lead to him. "Give Merlin my best wishes."

"Will do."

She kissed him on the cheek and waved him off. "Go put a smile on his face."

He grinned, thanking her again before heading back into the apartment complex. He took the stairs up to the flat – he didn't think his neighbours would appreciate him bringing an excitable puppy into the elevator – and paused outside the door to their flat to unhook the lead from the spaniel's collar.

He opened the door and the puppy immediately shot forward, tail going ninety to the dozen, whole body trembling in excitement as it ran around to explore.

Merlin stared at it, eyes wide, before he positively _beamed_, his whole face lighting up as he held out his arms for the puppy to jump up into his lap. He petted it happily, grinning as he rubbed its ears, and Arthur kicked the door shut behind him before approaching the sofa.

"Hello," Merlin cooed to the puppy. "Aren't you sweet?"

Arthur smiled, glad he'd gotten it completely right. "You didn't really think I'd settle for just getting you socks, did you? This is your real present."

"Are you serious?" Merlin gaped. "He's ours?"

"He is. What are you going to name him?"

"I think...maybe Max?"

"Max suits him," Arthur agreed, sitting beside his partner and reaching out to scratch behind Max's ear. "Is it...I mean, I did get it right?"

"Arthur, he's _perfect_. You couldn't have gotten me a better present." Merlin shot him a playful smile. "Are you sure you're ready for the responsibility? I mean, raising a dog with me, it won't be easy..."

"Shut up," Arthur laughed. "We're not going to be one of _those _couples with a dog."

Merlin chuckled and looked down at Max as he flopped down on his lap to sleep. He ran his hand over the puppy's back, smiling.

"I was beginning to think you were never going to pick up on the hints. They weren't exactly subtle."

Arthur frowned, confused. "What?"

"Watching Crufts? Volunteering at the dog shelter? Telling you about Ginger?" Merlin raised his eyebrows, shaking his head. "Honestly, Arthur, who do you think suggested that Mordred leave Watson with Morgana...and then recommended that she leave him with you?"

"Wait, _what_?"

Merlin had organised the whole dogsitting thing as a hint for his birthday present? It made sense now he thought about it, all the clues. He felt like an idiot for not noticing it before. Like Merlin had said, he hadn't exactly been _subtle_.

"You sly git," he grumbled.

Merlin smiled, leaning in to kiss him. "Thank you, though, really. I love you."

Arthur smiled, wrapping his arm around his partner and using his free hand to rub Max's ears. He kissed Merlin firmly.

"Happy birthday."

* * *

**a/n: this ridiculously fluffy fic was written as a birthday present to the lovely Lesty (tazilp on tumblr).**

**She's amazing at art, very Canadian, and just a wonderful person and lovely friend. Happy birthday, dear! I hope you liked this. **

**Thanks for reading, reviews are very much appreciated. For notices about my fanfictions and updates, feel free to follow me on tumblr. My URL is 'onceandfuturesorceress'.**


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